Free Dumb

by

Pafu

Everyone is free
Even the poor oldie
Locked in a bod
Thinking it is he.

So grim is his grip
As life drains to drip
Songs turned to chirp
So who is the bird?

Wristy fist rhythm
Making the bread
Heart beating spasms
Stained bloodlike red.

Catching the tune
He seizes a belle
Waltzing a shuffle
And trying to smile.

Say is he happy
Lips so thinly set
Soon to abandon
Whatever he gets.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Now is the time
by: M A Heathcote
from: Manchester, England, UK

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